A reissue of Die Anarchistische Abendunterhaltung’s first self-titled album (SUB ROSA SR550) has been put out by Sub Rosa.
This band were a four-piece of talented Belgian players who formed in Antwerp in 1992 and put out this first album in 1995, on the Jack & Johnny Recording label. They were classically trained musicians, these four: Buni Lenski (violin) and his brother Simon Lenski (cello) with Han Stubbe (clarinet) and Roel van Camp (accordion), but what they play is very far from classical music – it’s derived from Roma, klezmer, and east European folk music, mixed up with jazz-ish elements. At least, that’s what we hear on this record – extremely lively tunes as if we’d been invited to a wedding in Romania and we’re the only ones not wearing the acceptable traditional garb.
DAAU (as they abbreviated) have a firm grasp of dynamics and precision and perform this material with verve and elan, but also an odd sort of precision and intellectual coolness, that indicates they’re not necessarily out to earn eighteen badges of “authenticity” from the New York Klezmer Series. On the contrary, DAAU thought of themselves as punk rockers, or at any rate they wished to foster a rebellious spirit in their bones, and if there was any grain to be had in Antwerp, against it they would go. Interestingly, the accordion player indicates they also emulated sixties psychedelia, progressive rock and new wave genres with their all-acoustic set-up (not on this record, though), and they bore aloft their instruments with pride – thereby avoiding the trap of being “just another rock band” with electric guitars and drums. Apparently this move went down very well in the Antwerp of the 1990s, home to bands such as dEUS, Zita Swoon and Kiss My Jazz – none of whom were ever heard by us, but the name of that last one suggests there was a band who paraded a similarly irreverent attitude towards conventional jazz genres.
As mentioned, DAAU play flawlessly on this record, an index of their classical training – which for them seems to be something of a paradox. They wanted to protect their hard-earned skillsets and continue to hone their craft, but also yearned to do something distinctive with music and create something new of their own. It’s not just in the playing, but also in the compositions here; five of the six tracks follow a pre-arranged three-movement structure, reflected in the name ‘Drieslagstelesels’, almost like a mini-symphony format into which the irrepressible folk modes must be pushed. The mere fact that they pull any of this off is worthy of anyone’s admiration, even if the “punk” thing doesn’t seem as self-evident to me as perhaps it ought. I’d say that DAAU intellectualised their rebellion right from the start, but then I suppose the same could be said of many UK post-punk bands too, and if they didn’t contextualise everything then the writers of the NME certainly did so in 1980-1982.
Even their name is lifted from a literary source; it comes from Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse and is supposed to convey something about the outsider mentality and the halls of Bedlam. Well, this music didn’t exactly make me lose my wits, but it’s unique and well-crafted. I see the band are still playing to this day, although there have been personnel changes since this debut, and it didn’t take long for them to be signed up by Sony Classical – a fate which, as yet, has not befallen Johnny Rotten, The Clash, or The Damned. Vinyl edition also exists, the first time on that medium for this music. (24/10/2023)